


Coincidence

by ScaryScarecrows



Series: Garage Tapes [10]
Category: Gotham City Garage (Comics)
Genre: Gen, character exploration, it's a miracle, mentions of potential harm to an infant, nothing happened don't worry, wow Sheila is here and Jason doesn't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaryScarecrows/pseuds/ScaryScarecrows
Summary: This guy’s name is Jason. He’s going to be handling the drugs. Apparently he runs his own gang and everything. Sheila doesn’t trust him, not really. He’s not much more than a kid, and, well…Good God, he looks like Willis.





	Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of wanted to see what Sheila Haywood’s head is like. Y’know. For fun. I doubt she’ll become a regular; there’s no reason for her to be.

Sheila looks at the man in front of her and thinks,  _ Good God, he looks like Willis. _

He really does. She doesn’t think...the world isn’t that small, even now, but still. Same bone structure, same height (six feet if he’s an inch), same damn build. Could be related. That rat bastard had never been the most faithful of men.

Hem.

She hadn’t...forgotten, exactly, about the baby. She just sort of...didn’t think about him. She hadn’t wanted a damn kid, the condom broke and by the time she realized what was the matter with her, it was too late, and…

She’d never named him. She’d had him for a hot minute, and he’d been crying, and to this day she’s not sure if she made a move or if she actually  **said** how easy it would be to just...shut him up, but Willis had swiped the kid from her arms and never come back.

And then it hadn’t been her problem anymore. Honestly, she can’t say for sure that she wouldn’t have hurt him. She didn’t want a kid. She  **didn’t** .

This guy’s name is Jason. He’s going to be handling the drugs. Apparently he runs his own gang and everything. Sheila doesn’t trust him, not really. He’s not much more than a kid, and, well…

Good God, he looks like Willis.

But her concerns don’t matter, that’s been made very clear. Her job is to get the merch out of the Garden, and Marquis will give her a receipt so Cobblepot will pay her, and Jason will handle the black market bit.

Thing is, she’s just a contracted smuggler. If something goes wrong, Cobblepot will blame her.

“You’re  _ sure _ \--”

“This ain’t my first criminal activity,” Jason drawls. “Compared to the Bat’s car, this is a cakewalk.”

She doesn’t know what the deal is there. She doesn’t want to know, but she asks anyway, like a dumbass.

“The Bat’s car?”

Jason grins, broad and mischievous, and leans against the mint green desk.

“Last time I was in the city, one’a my men an’ I took Batman’s car for a joyride. Thought D was gonna have a stroke.”

“ **I** thought I was going to have a stroke,” Marquis grumbles. “I knew I should have stuck you in Scouts or something, maybe then you wouldn’t be a delinquent.”

“Mamaaa...just killed a man…”

“You are not funny.” Jason just laughs. Sheila wonders if he really has killed a man before. She figures probably-hasn’t everyone?-but who knows, really. “Anyway...here you go, Doctor Haywood. Don’t worry about a thing; on the off chance that something goes horribly wrong, you won’t catch Hell for it, I promise.”

**Sure** she won’t.

“I’ve got a trained doctor on my crew,” Jason says. “He’ll make sure nothing happens before we can sell this off.”

Hem. Why isn’t the doctor here, then?

“That’s good.” She forces a smile. It’s silly. She knows it’s silly. It’s not the kid’s fault he looks like her jerkass ex, like the kid she...had. Y’know. But knowing it’s silly doesn’t help. “I’m sorry. This is my first go-round with, well, the big dogs.”

That’s a lie. A few years back, she did work for the Joker, before he died. That hadn’t ended well, and in hindsight she should have told him to fuck off, but she didn’t. She was scared. And he’d...she hadn’t smiled enough for him.

The side effects can be nasty, but it feels good, to laugh like that. And it’s not hard to make, not if you know what you’re doing. It is expensive, though. The best hobbies are.

“You did good,” Marquis says. “I’m sure Mister Cobblepot will keep you in mind for the future.”

She almost hopes not. She’ll do it; the money’s good, after all, and it’s not like it’s hard, but still.

Jason reaches up to push dark hair off his face and she spots a flash of red on his forearm. The red turns out to be letters, cursive script that reads, ‘Sometimes dead is better’.*

Huh.

Willis had tattoos. None like that, though. He’d had a pin-up girl on his chest, a redhead, and a coin on the back of his hand. The coin had been an initiation thing.

Whatever. Screw Willis. Not literally, never again, but...never mind.

Marquis opens a drawer in the desk and pulls out a scrap of purple paper, signs it with a gold-inked pen.

“Here you go,” she says. “Don’t lose it.”

As if.

Sheila tucks it into the compartment in her right boot, nice and safe, and swallows down the urge to  **laugh** . She doesn’t think she does a good job of that; Jason’s looking at her like she’s weirding him out and Marquis still has the drawer open. Sheila’s not stupid enough to think there’s not a gun in that drawer.

“I’d better be heading back,” she says. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Mm-hm.” Marquis closes the drawer. “Drive safe, Doctor.”

“Yeah. Drive safe.”

He doesn’t  **sound** like Willis, at least.

She doesn’t smile. She wants to, it’s polite, but if she does...things will escalate.

She just nods, takes one last look at the man that looks like she thinks the baby would’ve, and heads out. It’s a long ride back, and she’s just dying for a cigarette.

THE END 

  
  
* _ Pet Sematary _ . Jason thinks he’s funny.


End file.
